Save My Life
by Diana Longman
Summary: I feel like I'm going to die. There's nothing left to live for. I need a miracle, and fast. The first chapter stinks, but it gets better, so bear with me, please. Takes elements from movie and multiple series. Possible romance. Please R&R.
1. Just the Beginning

The movie got me on a TF kick. Also, I have writer's block on my TMNT story. Usual disclaimer: I don't own anything but OCs, blah blah blah . . .

* * *

Miranda Neverlie stared out her window, watching the pouring rain and wishing she were anywhere but on the jet. You see, she was on her way to a funeral. Her best friend's, as a matter of fact. She hadn't seen Jyana Thompson for something along the lines of six months, but they had still been close, and emailed each other a minimum of four times a day. Most of the time it was closer to seven or eight. 

That's how Randa'd first figured out something was wrong. Jya always wrote first thing in the morning, but noon had rolled around on that fateful day, and she still hadn't heard from Jya. Randa had panicked. Jya never slept later than nine, and was always on her computer tapping out an email by nine-thirty. A frantic Miranda had called her house seventeen times in half and hour, only to get the answering machine. The one time she got an actual reply (on her eighteenth try), it was from a total stranger, and that person hung up after hearing her name. So she gave up on calling, and prayed with all her might.

Jya's mother had left a very short message a week later. Jya had been at her factory summer job when and explosion went off. She'd been the only one in the building. Someone living near the factory had heard the explosion and called 911. Jya had been in critical condition for three days before she died. Her last words had been "Tell Randa thanks." The funeral was set for Saturday at 3.

Miranda had sat numbly trying to process the information for an hour. Then she'd cried long and hard, all through that night and into the next morning. Friday afternoon, her manager, Mercutio(who was normally a jerk of the first water), had dumped a suitcase on her bed and said, "Start packin' your essentials, sweetheart. We have a funeral to get to." Miranda had cried even harder and given him a big hug. Her blushing manager'd left the room post-haste.

A hard jolt shook Miranda out of her rather gloomy thoughts. She looked outside again, her jaw dropping open as her vain attempt at a scream ended up coming out as a squeak. There, through the smoke and driving rain, she could just make out the shape of an F-22. Right where the left wing should have been.

Barely recovered from the shock, she registered the hoarse cries of the pilot into the comm system, and Mercutio to the pilot. "Attack by rogue F-22 Raptor! Requesting military assistance and permission to land at--"

BOOM! Another missile tore the right wing from the plane. With no lift, the jet started plummeting toward the surface. Figuring she'd like to at least be able to see when she hit, Randa went back to the window. As she looked out, she gasped and emitted yet another failed scream. _Whatever deities are out there, please, if I make it out of this alive, I'll start researching to figure out who you are and follow you for the rest of my life AS LONG AS WE DON'T HIT THAT CITY!_

* * *

On the crowded highway below, a yellow Mustang and an ambulance wait for the bottlenecking traffic to clear. These, however, are not ordinary vehicles. They are alive. Bored, the Mustang looks up--and freezes. (Starscream!) The call for help goes out post-haste, along with a prayer similar to the one that Miranda is currently uttering, only including the safety of the jet's passengers.

* * *

Sorry the chapter's so short, but it was a good stopping point, and I need to leave now. 


	2. The Shock of a Lifetime

The first part was so daggoned short that I decided it was the prologue. I may rewrite it eventually. In the meantime, what was not clear will be made clear. But possibly not in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or anything associated with it, but I do own any OCs.

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(Miranda's POV)  
My voicebox finally undid the knot in itself, and I almost felt relieved when I managed to scream as the plane plummetted toward the city. At least something was going right. You know that whole thing about your entire life flashing before your eyes when you're about to die? That's a bunch of hooey. It's just the parts that you really want to remember, then all the stuff that you don't. In my case, the former added up to about a 1/200 of the latter. Yeah, I've had a crummy life.  
I seem to be cursed. All of my truly good friends, my REAL friends, have either died or moved to another country after I'd gotten into an argument with them. Right after. With no time for me to say goodbye, or for them to do so--if they'd even wanted to. Earlier in my life, I'd have said heck yeah they did, but now--now, I'm not so sure. Then there's my family. It started with my great-grandmother. She was awesome. I mean, snowskiing at the age of 94? Sure, granted it was the bunny hills, but still. Then came the summer when she went on that stupid mission trip to stupid Africa. During a cursed ebola epidemic. She didn't make it through the first week of the trip. Even worse? The day we got the call was my birthday. Enough said.  
My grandpa on Dad's side was next. I loved him a lot, and went to visit him as often as possible, even though it meant putting up with Grandma Neverlie. She's a different story, though. Even when he got Parkinson's, he made an effort to take me places and do stuff with me and just plain be there whenever I needed him. He'd been my strength through five moveaways, and two "trips to heaven". At the worst, we were all at his side constantly. I never slept and barely drank or ate anything for two weeks. I never stopped praying, not even when I did eat. It didn't work. I didn't understand how he could be so wretched peaceful when he was dying. So accepting. I was being ripped up inside, and it seemed like he didn't care enough to fight. His last words were to me. I was the only one in the room, because everyone else had gone down to the cafeteria to eat. He said, "Don't you ever give up on people, Randy. Keep trying, no matter how hard it is or how bad it hurts. I love you. Keep lovin' God, Randy. I wanna see you on the other side." He died with my hand in his.  
My mom's parents flew all the way in from Iowa to support Grandma Neverlie. They didn't know her very well, but both knew what it was like to lose a significant other to . Grandma Takato had lost her first husband--my mom's biological dad--to the Vietnam War. She met Grandpa Takato at her former college roomate's funeral. They'd been engaged. So they both stayed for a month to help Grandma Neverlie through it, even though they had booked a return flight for the week after the funeral. Afterwords, they rented a car to drive back so they could make it back in time for my cousin's birthday. They said they call us when they got back. In the middle of the drive, an early snowstorm blew in. Grandpa was probably tired from driving, because it was eleven o'clock at night. Grandma was probably sleeping. The car skidded on the slippery, slush-laden road, slammed through the saftey barrier, and landed upside-down in a small creek. Both of my grandparents died on impact.

After that, it seemed like everyone started falling like dominoes. One aunt went to brain cancer, the other to malaria. All three of my uncles went to "on the job health hazards" and their kids got a kickback. Like the companies could pay for the loss of their fathers. My parents . . . my parents and my kid brother died in another car crash. On their way to pick me up from a choir concert. We were going to go out to dinner at Frisches. And people wonder why I refuse to eat there.

That's why I went with the whole popstar thing. You can be loved without having to love back. Well, not personally, anyway.

All this went through my head in a matter of seconds. Another sound cut through my thoughts like a knife. A _propeller?_ Last time I checked, Raptors DON'T have propellers. I nearly broke my nose trying to press close enough to the window to see where the sound was coming from. I finally found it. It was a black biplane, a little one-seater job. (HUH?) I had to admit, it was pretty sweet looking, for something so old fashioned. I did a double take when it flew up close to my window, for one very simple reason: no one was flying it.

* * *

(biplane's POV) 

"I know, I know, but that idiot's attackin' them!" I practically yelled the transmission back to Ultra Magnus. He's big on the whole "don't get involved with the locals at any cost" schtick, but leader or no leader, I wasn't going to let people die. Even if they were organics. Besides, I'd just spotted something that he couldn't see: the Decepticon symbol on the fighter jet's side. "Magnus, it's a Decepticon!"

"Scratch the earlier command, then, and kick some traitor hide!"

"Copy that. And Magnus, you might want to have somethin' ready to catch that plane, cause it's goin' down fast"

I swooped up and under the Decepticon, unleashing a stream of plasma bullets into its underbelly as I did so.

* * *

Miranda's POV 

I was so entralled by the sight before me that I didn't notice we'd stopped falling. I mean, this little black biplane with no one driving it was kicking tail on an _F-22._ That just blew my mind. How many rounds of those little blue things did it have, anyway?

I caught a glimpse of something further down and gaped. There was a small ship holding us suspended above the city on a--net? A very alien-looking ship. A green alien ship. I dashed to the other side of the plane in three strides. Sure enough, there was another one, only this one was silver and looked kind of like a mini version of Queen Amidala's starship, only rounder (and cuter!). They were flying us away from the city--and the battle. Fortunately for the vengeful side of me, I got one last good look at it as we started to set down well outside the city, and saw the little biplane chasing the Raptor off, spewing bullets at it.

The two ships gently lowered us to the ground, then touched down themselves. As soon as they did, a car-carrier deisel came thundering up, a light green chopper and a red-and yellow car that looked too much like a boombox for comfort following behind it. When the biplane returned, a booming voice asked us to please exit the plane. I ignored the dropped jaws of the pilot and Mercutio and opened the door, inflated the escape slide, and slid down it. They followed, still in an obvious daze.

I stood there, hands on my hips. "Thanks for saving us, and that city, but, uh, somebody wanna explain to me what's going on here?"

That's when I got the only non-unpleasant shock of my life.

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Okay, I seriously need some input here. Please help. REVIEW! That's the only way I can learn what you think is crummy and make it better. And yes, you will find out where the extra Autobots came from.


	3. The Reason

Disclaimer: don't own TF. OCs are mine. I got bored, so I'm writing another chapter, and I hope it's better than the first 2. Thanks to Crimson Starlight for the narration suggestion. I write better from first person, so I'll keep it down to two narrators unless absolutely neccessary.

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(biplane's POV) 

"Thanks for saving us, and that city, but, uh, somebody wanna explain to me what's going on here?" The local--the human--cocked her head and stared us all down. She was a lot smaller than us, but the look in those green optics--eyes, my bad--said _Seriously, you DON'T want to mess with me._ I guess Magnus was thinking the same thing I was. We were already in deep, so we may as well take advantage of it.

_"There any satellites observing the area?" _Magnus queried me.

_"Plenty."_

_"Cover us."_

_"Way ahead of you, big guy. Did it before we started in on this mess."_

_"Everyone okay with this? I personally can't think of another way to explain this. Not that they'll believe, anyway."_

Everyone was. I think they all were relieved that we would be getting local help. They might freak, sure, but anyone who doesn't overload at being resued by a biplane that flies itself and a couple of alien ships probably isn't going to have too much trouble accepting vehicles that turn into giant robots. So we all transformed.

The female's jaw dropped open, then a big grin spread across her face. "SWEET! Seriously, that was the last thing I expected, but this is awesome!"

I have to admit she looked pretty cute smiling. Her op--eyes swept over us, then returned to me. For a long time. So, not knowing the proper cultural response, I used it as an excuse to stare back. Running a quick download of the"Internet", I found out that she was wearing coverings that allowed her to to change her appearance and vulnerability to weather conditions simply by switching them. Clever, if I do say so myself. She was wearing a silver crop top, collar but no sleeves. Formfitting blue flared pants, light blue stripes with silver piping down the sides. Silver and white sneakers. Short, curved- under brown hair. Not to mention those eyes. I gotta say, if she'd been a Transformer, I'd have been attracted to her. Aw, forget it, I_ was_ attracted to her. _Get it together, man, you can't stare forever. No matter how much you want to._ So I stepped forward to introduce myself.

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Miranda's POV 

I gotta tell you, I was definitely shocked by these guys. I mean, I was expecting something along the lines of talking vehicles, but I was definitely NOT expecting giant alien robots, and I was totally not expecting any of them to be cute. But the biplane dude definitely was. Too bad he was an alien robot.

He stepped forward at that point in my train of thought. "Hi, I'm Reggae. What's your name?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I registered movement, but I wasn't too worried about it. He had a cute voice, too. "Miranda. So, uh, where are you guys from, anyhow?"

"That's a long story." The colossus that had been the car-carrier stepped forward. "I'm Ultra Magnus, and this is my team. What's left of it, anyway."

Just then, a yellow Mustang and an ambulance drove up and transformed. The ambulance pretty much gasped, "Magnus! Is Optimus going to be glad to see you!"

"It's been a long time, Red Alert, Hot Shot. I'll be glad to see Optimus, too. How is he?"

"As well as can be expected, under the circumstances." Red Alert looked down at a pale Mercutio, the laughing pilot, and me. I made a mental note to ask my pilot what was so funny. "You'd better get them out of here, before Starscream comes back with reinforcements."

"What did the Raptor-dude want with us, anyway?"

"Come with us, and I'll explain on the way. Our base isn't too far from here, and we're cloaked, so we can walk."

Reggae promptly picked me up and put me on his shoulder.

* * *

Between Ultra Magnus and Red Alert, I learned that there had been a battle for something called the Allspark--the source of the Transformers' life force--that destroyed the Allspark and left the Autobots--the good guys--with no hope of reanimating their race and therefore no reason to go home. So Optimus Prime (semi truck alt mode) and his crew--Jazz (Solstice alt mode)(thought he died, but he came back), Bumblebee (Camaro alt mode), Ironhide (pickup alt mode), and Ratchet (search and rescue alt mode)--decided to stay here and invite anyone that wanted to to come live with them, because, more or less, they liked our planet and they liked us. Red Alert and Hot Shot had been the first two to respond. Then Magnus and his crew showed up. The green space ship was Harlem (guy); silver ship--Calypso (girl); chopper--Springer (guy); boombox car--Blaster (guy). 

"So how do we humans fit into this?" I really wanted to know. They'd told me, too, about their human partners.

Reggae answered me as we entered the base. "You guys help us keep customs and stuff straight, and do all the things we can't--like get into buildings and help buy materials we need. Not to mention add a little more flavor to our social diets."

I laughed. "Yeah, it would get pretty boring having be just, what, like five or six of you at a time? Thirteen now, but a person can still get a little stir crazy with no outside contact." I knew I was letting my guard down, but I couldn't help it. I liked these guys. Well, Reggae, Harlem, Springer, Red Alert, and Hot Shot, anyway. Blaster was cool, but he was LOUD. Magnus was shut up in his own little shell (yes, I know I'm not one to be talking). Calypso? I just couldn't figure her out. I felt like she was debating whether to be my friend or ignore me, or something.

We walked into this HUGE room with two more 'bots in it. The ginormous red and blue guy I took to be Optimus Prime (gee whiz, did he and Magnus look alike). I decided right away that the black hulking guy had to be Ironhide. I watched as Prime and Magnus greeted each other, and was reminded of two brothers reuniting after being forced to separate for a really long time. Yeah, I know that sounds corny and majorly cliche, but that really was what it made me think of. I didn't understand what they were saying, of course, because it was in whatever language the Transformers spoke. Probably called Cybertronian or something.

Mercutio, who had been turning greener and greener the entire time, decided to take that moment to faint. Reggae looked at me like,_ What?_

"He fainted. Consider it a way of dealing with informational overload."

"Oh."

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I'm gonna leave it at that for now. Please R&R, constructive criticism much appreciated, no flames please. 


	4. Insert Strangeness Here

Okay, sorry I haven't written in so long. I had writer's block. SO, on with the story. You already know "The Disclaimer Song", so I won't sing it again.

* * *

I managed to make it to Jya's funeral on time. I cried again, but somehow it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I kinda knew there was at least _a_ God now (what bigger miracle could you find than alien robots showing up just in the nick of time and saving you? Especially when they has left a week later than they'd planned, and inexplicably ended up entering the atmosphere a couple hundred miles off course), so I figured someone as good as Jya was a shoo-in for heaven. And who knows? Maybe I'd figure out her secret and see her on the other side.

Over the next couple of days, I made friends with the 'bots, Reggae, Hotshot, and Bumblebee especially. I swear, it's like they could read my mind or something, and gave me the "just plain" guy friends that I had always wanted. Sam wasn't too horrible, but he was always mooning over Mikaela. Whatever—I think I was jealous because I wished I could open up enough to trust someone that much. Sam's cousin Daniel was pretty daggone cool for a little kid. You couldn't help but like him, even if he _was_ a pain in the neck sometimes.

Ron and Spike Witwicky (a pair of brothers and Sam and Daniel's dads) were a little wary of me at first (I had earned quite the reputation as a pop singer—please don't ask; you'll find out soon enough), but a couple of days later they started warming up to me. Pretty soon, I had a pair of worried "uncles" hovering over me like a pair of mother hens.

I tried really hard not to let them get too close at first, but every single one of them seemed to find that crack in my otherwise "impenetrable" armor. I worried about getting too close, about letting them in, but I just couldn't help it for some reason. I guess I'm just a really needy person, and the only reason I'd been able to keep my guard up before was that I didn't really have any personal contact with anyone, not even Mercutio.

Oh yeah, the reason the pilot was laughing so hard? His name was Will Lennox, and he'd been a soldier when the Decepticons had shown up. He'd fought alongside the Autobots and become good friends with Ironhide after the war for the Allspark ended. You can't exist in relative comfort without a job for too long, so he'd trained in the martial arts and gotten his pilot's license, then hired himself out as a bodyguard. I guess he'd missed being in action, but didn't want people shooting at him on a regular basis. (I don't blame you in the slightest, Will, I don't blame you in the slightest.) It was just a fluke that he'd ended up as Mercutio's and my bodyguard/pilot.

Calypso had always been, well, kinda cold around me. I couldn't figure out why for the life of me, so I just sort of shrugged it off, and assumed that I was giving off some sort of vibe that the guy 'bots couldn't pick up.

It started out like any normal day (well, as normal as you can get when you're a pop star with humongo alien robots for your best friends), with me coming in in my convertible Mustang and Reggae taking me in to the infirmary to check on Mercutio. (They hadn't wanted him blatting out that there were giant alien robots that could turn into vehicles running around. Even if no one believed him, he's still end up in a loony bin, and that would cause me problems.)

Anyway, we entered the infirmary, and Ratchet greeted us. Standing across from him was none other than Calypso.

"Uh, hi . . . Miranda? I . . . I wanted to talk to you."

I was about to reply to this unexpected greeting when Mercutio, who had been lying unconscious on the exam table, stirred and sat up. He took one look at the Autobots standing beside him and promptly fainted again. I sighed. "Wuss. Hey, Ratchet, can you get me a bucket of water?"

Ratchet looked at me like I was a couple chips short of a processor, but went to get one anyway.

I turned to Calypso while we were waiting for him. "What about?"

"I would prefer to leave out the male element."

Reggae, still holding me on his shoulder, made a face at her. She glared at him. Before any of us could say anything, Ratchet walked back into the infirmary. "I do not know what purpose this serves, but here," he said, gingerly setting down the brimming bucket he was carrying on his pinky. "Sam helped me fill it," was his answer to me opening my mouth to ask just how he could get such a tiny bucket full without busting it.

"This is how you treat a human who is a chronic fainter," I said, dismounting from Reggae's shoulder and picking up the bucket. Ratchet cocked his head, as if trying to figure out my strategy, or remember it for future reference. I then promptly dumped the bucket of water down Mercutio's Italian suit-clad form.

It must have been colder than I thought, because he shot up faster than I could say "ice". He took one look at his now soaked suit and another at the bucket in my hands and tried to storm off, only to come rather abruptly to the edge of the exam table. He sat down again, only to plant his rear straight in the puddle. I quite naturally busted up laughing.

Mercutio glared at me. "You ruined my suit!"

I stuck my tongue out at him, much to the amusement of the surrounding Autobots. "It's not like you can't buy another one. Heck, it's not like you don't have something like twenty already! I think it's high time you had a pay cut, 'cause I haven't seen you in the same suit twice in two months. You're like a spoiled rich brat with her formal dresses."

Mercutio turned around and sulked in his puddle.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Calypso. "So, where do you want to go?"

"Huh? Oh. Uh, how about just my lab?" (She's an alloy chemist, and she'd been doing some experiments with the local metals, I found out later.)

She seemed to be really nervous, like she was embarrassed about something. Reggae raised an eyebrow at me, like "Are you sure about this?" I just gave him a funny look and climbed up onto the hand that Calypso was offering.

* * *

I think that's a good place to end it for now. I have homework. Bleah. (I'm a college kid.) I may write another chapter later, though. 


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